


My Heart is in Havana

by skiptheprologue



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Boys Kissing, Clubbing, Cultural Appropriation, Dancing, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Thomas TRYING to dance, bisexual awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-18 02:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17572769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skiptheprologue/pseuds/skiptheprologue
Summary: Thomas is in the midst of a messy breakup and his best friend Minho is determined to help him move on. So he drags Thomas out to a club in hopes that he will meet a nice new girl and get his life back on track. Miraculously Thomas does meet someone that helps him get over his ex. But to everyone's surprise-including Thomas'-this person is not a girl.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this one is a little long but I accidentally sat down and wrote a 10,000 word one-shot (oops!). I decided it might be better to break it into two parts to make it a bit more manageable. Anyway, I hope you like it!

“Don’t even think about it.” Minho said, peeking in through the open door of Thomas’ bedroom.

“What?” Thomas paused, his outstretched hand just inches from the cell phone that was sounding on his bedside table.

“You know what” Minho rolled his eyes. He stepped inside the room, maneuvering carefully around the piles of dirty laundry that littered the floor. Crossing to the bed, Minho grabbed Thomas’ phone as it continued to ring and frowned down at the screen. “She really doesn’t give up, does she?”

Thomas knew he was talking about Teresa. “No, she does not.”

Sighing, Thomas settled back into the nest of blankets he’d made and glared up at the pale white ceiling.

“How long as it been?” Minho asked.

“Two weeks” Thomas mumbled.

Two weeks since Thomas had walked in on his girlfriend Teresa making out with another guy at a campus party. Two weeks of feeling like complete and utter shit because she chose another guy over him. And not just any other guy. She chose Aris, Thomas’ sworn enemy since they were in grade school. It had also been two weeks of Teresa calling and texting Thomas incessantly, crying and apologizing and begging him to let her explain.

It was actually verging on pathetic.

Not that Thomas had been dealing with the situation any better himself. He had spent the last two weeks confined to his bedroom, living off cans of Coke, Chinese takeout and re-runs of The Office. He had missed so much class that he had to meet with the Dean sometime the following week, though he had crumpled the letter before finding out when. It was now lying in a ball at the foot of his desk hidden by a larger pile of papers. The room around Thomas looked more like a dump than the dorm of a third year Computer Science major.

“Dude” Minho said, raising his eyebrows at a particularly large heap of clothing that was verging on Mount Everest proportions. “When was the last time you did laundry?”

Thomas shrugged. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had left his room, let alone did anything that resembled cleaning. “Two weeks?”

“That’s disgusting” Minho frowned. “You’re disgusting.”

“I love you too buddy” Thomas said, turning back to the TV. Netflix had stopped auto-play and was asking him whether he was still watching. Thomas snickered. What a stupid question. He hit play.

“I don’t think so.” Minho said, grabbing the remote out of Thomas’ hand and stopping the episode. “Dude, I’m your best friend and I’m worried about you. You need to get out of this room.”

“Pass.” Thomas said, pulling the blankets over his face.

“This is not something you can pass” Minho said, yanking the blanket away. “We’re going out.”

“Why would I go out when I have everything I need right here?” Thomas gestured at the mass of filth he had created around himself.

“If you don’t get out of bed and come out with me tonight…I am changing the Netflix password.”

Thomas froze. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Just watch me.” Minho challenged. “You and I are going to go out, get drunk and maybe meet some decent girls for a change.”

“Go out where?”

Minho winked at Thomas, his lips curling up into a mischievous grin. “We’re going to a club.”

Thomas’ mouth fell open in horror. Minho had been trying to get Thomas to go clubbing with him since they were in their first year. Thomas had always managed some sort of excuse—he had a huge test to study for, his fake ID sucked, he was allergic to hipsters—and so he had never had to go. But ever since he turned twenty-one just over a month ago, Minho was getting more and more persistent and it was getting harder to refuse.

But today was different.

“Minho, you can’t be serious!” Thomas demanded. “I just broke up with my girlfriend because she was cheating on me. I can’t go to a club. I am emotionally compromised.”

Minho laughed. “Please. Everyone who goes to a club is emotionally compromised. Besides, it will be a new and exciting experience for you and maybe it will get your mind off your current situation. Plus there will be alcohol. Lots of alcohol.”

Thomas had to admit that alcohol sounded good.

“But why a club? Why can’t we go to a pub or something?” he whined.

“Because I said so, that’s why.” Minho said. “Now get your butt out of bed and get ready. And for God’s sake, take a shower. You smell awful.” With that Minho turned and—after tripping over a large C++ textbook sitting precariously at the foot of Thomas’ bed—stormed from the room.

Thomas stared after him in disbelief. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less than go to a club. And he couldn’t believe that Minho just stole his phone.

***

A few hours later, after failing to think up a valid means of escape, Thomas found himself speeding down the freeway in Minho’s beat up Corolla. Minho was in the driver’s seat, singing loudly and off-key to a rock song blaring from the speakers. Their friends Chuck, Frypan and Winston were crammed into the back, their bodies much too large to be seated comfortably in Minho’s tiny car. They complained loudly with every turn and Minho cackled in response, making sure to take his turns as sharply as possible. Thomas was freshly showered and glowering from the passenger seat, wishing that he were almost anywhere else.

“Cheer up” Minho said, laughing at Thomas’ expression. “This is for your own good.”

Thomas wanted to snap at him, to tell Minho that he was only thinking about himself. But he held it back. He knew it wasn’t true. Minho was stubborn and a major pain in the ass but Thomas knew that his heart was in the right place. In his weird way, Minho really did think that he was helping Thomas. So instead of complaining—as he had been all night—Thomas nodded at Minho in a resigned sort of way and continued sulking out the window.

They took a sharp left off the freeway—“Fry!” Chuck yelled. “Your elbow is digging into my back!”—and drove north into the industrial area of town. Thomas had never been to this part of the city before and he looked around at it curiously. The residential houses slowly turned into tall gray buildings, sad giants coming apart with age. Some were made of crumbling brick while others were formed of worn concrete, each showcasing a faded sign from a business that had closed down decades ago. It looked like a great place to get murdered, not a place to party.

But as Minho made another left, they came upon a street that was different from the rest. This road was lined with warehouses, each lit up with different neon signs. Outside, crowds of young adults were grouped together, forming themselves into lines that led into the various buildings.

This had to be the club strip that Minho had told Thomas so much about.

“Welcome to paradise, bitches!” Minho laughed as he parallel parked his car at the far end of the road. “Let’s do this.” He grinned at the other boys and pushed open his door, rushing out into the night. The boys in the back scrambled after him, screaming and calling out happily as they stretched their newly freed arms and legs through the open air.

Thomas stayed behind, mentally preparing himself for whatever the night was going to bring. Maybe Minho was right. Maybe Thomas would actually enjoy himself. Maybe he would meet a nice new girl and this would finally be the thing that would allow him to get over Teresa for good.

Thomas couldn’t hold back his laugh. Like that was ever going to happen.

Thomas finally forced himself from the car and joined the others. The group started down the street, maneuvering their way through the throngs of people lining the road. Minho was constantly reassuring Thomas about how “fucking epic” their night was going to be, explaining in great detail how they were all going to “get laid”. Thomas nodded absently at his words but he was more interested in looking at all of the clubs around them.

Each one was unique despite being situated so close together. Across the street on their left was a large concrete structure with an illuminated sign that read “Right Arm”. The script was meant to look like it was made of rope, a lasso that looped around the bottom of the sign and was grasped by a large right arm at the corner. The people waiting to get in here were wearing different variations of the same outfit—cowboy hats, boots and jeans—and Blake Shelton’s voice filled the night air every time somebody opened the door. Right beside that was another building, this one painted white with sliver trim, though it was difficult to make out in the darkness. The word “Haven” was written in futuristic script, looking more like shapes and symbols than actual letters. Thomas could hear the faint sounds of old school hip-hop coming from inside which clashed oddly with the Right Arm’s country music. And on their right, the boys passed what looked like a large warehouse, the outside covered in metal sheets and bars. Trance music rattled its windows and Thomas watched as a group of people about his age ducked inside, unapologetically sporting dark clothing, facial piercings and spiked hair dyed bright pink. A flickering light above the door read “WCKD”.

Despite his cynicism, Thomas was impressed by the creativity. He found himself actually wanting to check a few of these places out, wondering if the insides were as impressive as their exteriors. But Minho steered them away from all three and continued to a building at the opposite end of the block.

And when Thomas saw it, his hopes for the night instantly fell.

“You have got to be kidding me” Thomas groaned.

The boys stood in front of the one of the most bizarre buildings Thomas had ever seen. It was made of brick, though it was hard to tell at first glance. The bricks were painted a hot pink colour, bisected by lines of black to make an odd striped effect. Fake palm trees lined the walkway and a marble fountain gargled from the yellowing lawn on the right hand side. One of the walls was covered in flickering images that were projected from a little machine hidden just beneath an overgrown patch of grass. The images changed, timed perfectly to the music that was blasting from inside. Pineapples swayed to a sensual tango and then faded away, replaced by surfboards that bounced to the drumbeat. Palm leaves waved at them before transforming into bright pink flowers, exploding into a mass of petals. A sign shone from the top of the building reading “Paradise: A Havana Bar” in elegant cursive. The people who stood in line here wore different variations of “tropical” clothing—boys in brightly coloured Hawaiian shirts and girls in floral print sundresses. Some had large arrangements of fruit perched on top of their heads while others wore flower crowns and hula skirts.

Thomas watched all this with an increasing sense of disgust.

“Seriously Minho? This place?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Minho asked, smiling innocently at Thomas.

“Where do I even begin?” Thomas muttered.

“Oh shut up” Minho laughed, clapping Thomas roughly on the back. “You would have found something to complain about no matter where I took you. I have a friend who is celebrating his birthday here and we are going to support him. So even though this club has flaws—quite obvious flaws—I want you to slap on a smile and pretend that you are not an annoying shank that hates everything that is fun.”

“If you were already meeting people here, why did I have to come?” Thomas whined.

“I said shut up” Minho grumbled and pushed Thomas forward into the line.

After ten minutes of waiting—accompanied by Thomas’ endless complaints that Minho didn’t seem to hear—the group finally reached the front of the line where a disgruntled-looking bouncer was checking IDs. Thomas considered pretending that he had forgotten his at home but he knew that Minho wouldn’t fall for it. Plus, if Minho abandoned him, he would have no way to get back to his dorm. So when the man stretched out his large, muscular arm for the card, Thomas reluctantly handed it over. And after the bouncer scrutinized both the photo and Thomas’ own face, Thomas was able to push his way into the building.

The inside was no better than the outside. Everything was painted that same disgusting shade of pink. The walls were covered in posters that Thomas assumed were supposed to come from "Cuba", though their authenticity seemed questionable. Most of them appeared to be oddly impressionist, capturing the essence of people by using bright colours and geometric shapes. Some depicted women in head wraps waving bright fans around themselves while others showed groups of people sitting around a table, smoking cigars. Fake banana and palm leaves hung down from the ceiling, swaying directly over a large dance floor in the middle of the room. Here people swayed and twirled, their movements matching the high-tempo Spanish music blasting from the speakers.

“Here you are cutie” said a girl standing a few feet inside of the doors. She was wearing a bright red dress and holding strings of flowers in her arms. As Thomas approached, she placed one over his neck. “Have fun.”

Minho came up from behind him, his own set of flowers bouncing off of his chest. “See Thomas? I told you I was going to get you laid!”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “I thought we were in Cuba, not Hawaii.”

“Phrase of the night: shut up Thomas” Minho laughed. “Okay, follow me.”

Minho pushed his way forward through the labyrinth of drunk people, followed by Frypan, Chuck and Winston who were all singing a chorus of “shut up Thomas”. A scowling Thomas followed, struggling to keep up. The whole process proved to be surprisingly difficult. Their path led them through the dance floor and inebriated dancers kept crashing into them, sending them off course. Three times Thomas lost sight of Minho but he always somehow managed to find him again.

They finally reached a large area at the opposite side of the building that was blocked off from the larger population of clubbers by a rope. A set of stairs led to a raised platform that looked out across the dance floor. The platform housed a large square table surrounded by a leather seating area in the shape of a ring. A group of people were sitting here, laughing and drinking out of ridiculous coconut glasses. Paper plates and plastic cutlery littered the table and, directly in the center was a cake that read “Happy Birthday Alby”.

“Minho!” called a boy that Thomas recognized from the track team but had never spoken to. “You made it! Better late than never.”

“Hey Alby!” Minho called, pulling the boy into a tight bro hug. “You’d really think I’d miss your birthday?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you didn’t show up for something important” Alby smirked.

“Dude, I missed one track meet. Are you ever going to let me live it down?”

“Probably not” Alby said. “Who are your friends?”

“Oh right” Minho laughed, pointing at the boys standing behind him. “This is Chuck, Winston and Fry. Oh, and Thomas, but you already know him.”

“Hey Thomas” Alby said. Thomas could tell that Alby recognized him in the same way that Thomas recognized Alby but to say that they knew each other was a bit of an overstatement on Minho’s part.

“Hi” Thomas returned awkwardly.

“Let me introduce you guys to my friends” Alby indicated to the group around him. “This is Zart, Ben, Jeff, and Clint. Gally just went to grab a drink and…” he looked around in confusion. Then to Ben he asked “Dude, where did Newt go?”

The boy Ben shrugged indifferently. “He was just here.”

“Well, he’s around here somewhere.” Alby smiled at them. “Did you guys want to have a seat?”

Minho, Chuck, Winston and Fry all nodded and moved into the seating area. But Thomas was starting to feel a little overwhelmed and he couldn’t bring himself to socialize at that moment.

“I’m actually going to go and get a drink.” he said and, before anyone could try to stop him, he threw himself back into the crowd.

It was a weird feeling being in the club. As Thomas made his way towards the bar, he was acutely aware of all the people around him—dancing, talking, making out. There were _too_ many people. Thomas had never been a very solitary person but after two weeks of being confined to his room with no social interaction, the presence of so many people packed this closely together was too much. His nerves were on edge; he felt hot and suffocated and would have given anything to be out in the cool night air again. But he had promised Minho that he would try and that was exactly what he was planning to do.

But first, he needed a little liquid courage.

The bartender winked at Thomas as he ordered his vodka and handed it to him with a tiny pink umbrella sticking out of the top of the cup. Thomas couldn’t help rolling his eyes at how ridiculous this bar was but he was grateful for the alcohol. He downed the drink before he had even stepped away from the bar. Thomas could feel its effects as soon as the liquid passed his lips, a warming sensation that ran down his throat and settled into his stomach, chasing away his anxiety.

Thomas ordered another and downed it again, ignoring the bartender who laughed at this haste. He was actually starting to feel a little better and decided he was probably ready to re-join the party. So after ordering his third drink—which the bartender presented to him with two additional umbrellas—he started to make his way back to the VIP area. But as he turned onto dance floor, he ran directly into a boy who was speeding in the opposite direction. The vodka crashed between them and spilled all over the front of the other boy’s shirt.

“What the hell?” he yelled, reaching down at this soaked t-shirt.

“Sorry man” Thomas said. “You came at me really fast.”

“Are you kidding me?” the boy demanded, his particularly strong eye brows arched down into a glare. “Watch where you are going, shank.”

“Dude, you ran into me” Thomas remarked. “Maybe you’re the one who should be watching where you are going.”

“What did you just say to me?” he barked, taking a staggering step forward. Thomas could smell the alcohol that seemed to radiate off of the guy and he knew that he was in trouble. The boy was bigger than him, sturdily built and muscular. He could do some serious damage to Thomas if he wanted to and—judging by the furious look on his face—he _really_ wanted to. But Thomas had never been one to back down from a fight, no matter what the odds. Especially not after having a couple of drinks himself.

“Are you hard of hearing?” Thomas asked, his voice sounding much braver than he felt. “I said to watch where you are going.”

Thomas clenched his fists and readied himself to fend off the boy’s retaliation but the boy was too fast. His arm shot out and grabbed Thomas by the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward and closing the gap between them. The smell of alcohol was so strong. Thomas struggled to break free, to get himself out of arm’s reach where he might have a better advantage, but the boy’s grip was like iron. As Thomas watched, the boy balled his other hand into a fist. He reared back and Thomas’ eyes closed, preparing for the inevitable impact.

“Gally, no!” a voice called out.

When Thomas opened his eyes again, the boy’s—Gally’s—hand was still suspended in mid-air, an uncomfortably short distance away from Thomas’ face. But he didn’t finish the blow. Instead his gaze was fixed on someone standing behind Thomas, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Come on Newt!” Gally groaned, shaking Thomas slightly. Thomas tried once again to escape but Gally’s grip held strong. “I need to teach this shank a lesson.”

“For what?” the voice asked. It was a guy’s voice, calm and articulate. He spoke with a distinct British accent and, though his voice was composed, Thomas could hear a kind of authority in it. Whoever he was, this Newt was imposing enough to stop a hot-head like Gally in his tracks. “I saw what happened. You came barreling down here like a bloody drunk slinthead and ran into the poor guy.”  

“He spilled his drink all over me!” Gally complained.

 “Then you should probably buy him a new one” Newt suggested.

“Fuck that.”

“Then just let go of him and walk away.”

For a moment Gally glared down at Thomas and Thomas was sure he was going to hit him anyway. But instead Gally let him go, pushing Thomas backwards into the open air. A pair of arms grabbed Thomas from behind as he stumbled, preventing him from hitting the floor. Gally stormed off in the opposite direction.

“Don’t be such a twat Gally” Newt called after him but Gally simply flipped him off and kept going.

Thomas scrambled to his feet, pushing himself out of the boy’s arms and into a more dignified standing position. He straightened out his clothes that were disheveled from the fight—if you could call it that—and kept his gaze fixed firmly on the ground, away from anyone who was standing nearby.

Particularly Newt.

Shame burned in Thomas’ stomach. He couldn’t believe that had to be rescued from a Neanderthal like Gally. This Newt, whoever he was, probably thought he was pathetic.

“Are you alright?” Newt asked, his voice surprisingly soft. All the anger and condescension he had used with Gally was gone and replaced with a genuine tone of concern. The change was so prominent that it finally made Thomas look up at him.

Newt was not what Thomas had been expecting. From Gally’s reaction, Thomas had assumed that Newt would be bigger than him, broad-shouldered and muscular. But the boy who stood before him was much smaller. He was tall and skinny, all cheekbones and sharp angles beneath a mop of blonde hair. Though his frame was long and lanky, he held himself with a poise that was foreign to Thomas—his own awkward clumsiness was a long-running joke amongst his friends. Newt was wearing blue jeans and a long-sleeved grey V-neck and his eyebrows were arched up at Thomas.

“Yeah, I’m fine” Thomas said, smoothing out his collar. “Thanks for your help. You saved my ass.”

“Sorry about Gally” Newt said. “He’s usually a pretty good bloke but, get one drop of alcohol in him, and goes kind of mental.”

Thomas had difficulty seeing Gally as a good guy but he’d take Newt’s word for it.

“My name’s Newt, by the way” the boy grinned, sticking out his hand. Thomas shook it, smiling weakly back.

“Thomas.”

“Well, it’s good to meet you Thomas.”

A memory sparked in Thomas’ mind. “You and Gally…you’re Alby’s friends, aren’t you?”

“You know Alby?” Newt looked pleased.

“Kind of” Thomas said. “We’re on the track team together. But my friend Minho knows him better. He dragged me out tonight to come to Alby’s birthday. I’ve never really been clubbing before.”

“I know Minho” Newt remarked. “I went to high school with him. You did too, didn’t you? I think I remember you.”

Thomas was surprised by this. “Yeah, me and Minho have been friends forever.” He searched Newt’s face for any sign of familiarity but it was difficult. Thomas wasn’t very good at remembering faces and high school had been a very long time ago. “I’m sorry that I can’t remember you.”

“You wouldn’t” the blonde boy laughed. “I was in the year ahead of you and I kept to myself a lot back then. But Minho used to date my sister.”

“Holy shit” Thomas cried, a memory finally breaking through the surface of his mind. “You’re Sonya’s brother.”

“That’s me.”

Thomas felt stupid for not remembering it sooner. The accent should have given it away. “Well, then I lied. I do remember you.”

“Good that” Newt beamed. “I wouldn’t want to give Gally any credit for our first meeting.” He glanced over the crowd to the VIP table where Gally was just visible, yelling at Alby who appeared to be laughing at him. “Speaking of which, can I buy you a drink to replace the one that Gally spilled?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that” Thomas said, embarrassment clenching at this stomach again. It was bad enough the Newt had to save him from Gally. Now he was being way too nice to him and Thomas didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Yes I do” Newt insisted, grabbing Thomas by the arm and dragging him back towards the bar. “You see, I feel partially responsible for what happened. I am the designated driver and it is unfortunately my job to take care of my idiot friends. Gally did you wrong and I intend to make it right. So come on.”

Thomas allowed Newt to steer him back towards the bar where the bartender watched them with narrowed eyes. Newt ordered two drinks and thrust one into Thomas’ hand.

Thomas frowned down at the coconut shaped cup but took it gratefully. The drink was sweet, much different from something that Thomas would normally order. He could taste pineapple and mango and just a hint of alcohol, though it was hard to tell what kind. But he found that he actually enjoyed it.

“Do you think that we should re-join the party?” Newt asked, leaning causally against the bar.

“I think I should stay in exile for a while” Thomas said, glancing back at the table. “I don’t know how much Gally would appreciate me being there.”

“That’s true” Newt nodded. “He’ll forget soon enough but it’s probably best to give him some time. I would be happy to stay in exile with you, if you’d have me.”

“I couldn’t ask that” Thomas said. “You came with your friends to celebrate with Alby. You should spend your time with them. You’ve done so much for me already tonight.”

Newt raised an eyebrow at him and shook his head slightly. “It’s not a problem. Really, you’d be doing me a favor. I would rather hang out with you than babysit a bunch of drunk shanks like them. That is, of course, unless you would rather I left you alone…”

Thomas thought about it for a moment. He had been alone so often over the last few weeks that he was starting to think that he actually preferred solitude. People were flawed and selfish. Even the ones he thought he could trust would hurt and betray him. Teresa showed him that. He had started to think that it would be easier to give up on people altogether than to risk being hurt again.

But despite this, he found that he really did want to be around Newt. It was silly because he’d known him for such a brief time but Newt seemed different. Safe somehow. Thomas couldn’t really explain it.

“No” Thomas said slowly. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Good that” Newt said again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a chance encounter at a ridiculous club, Thomas and Newt finally get to know each other better.

Newt moved in a little closer at the bar so he could be heard over the roar of the crowd, his arm just brushing the top of Thomas’.

“So tell me a little about yourself Tommy.”

And Thomas did. Even though they had just met—and despite the fact that he vowed to never allow another person to call him “Tommy” after his annoying Aunt Ava passed away—Thomas found that he wanted to talk to Newt. Thomas talked about his studies in Computer Science and his dream to someday design software that could help with different forms of medical research. He talked about his family, life with his mom, losing his dad at an early age and how hard that was for him. He talked about Minho; how they met in the second grade after Minho “accidentally” pushed him off the swing set and all the trouble they used to get into growing up together.

Surprisingly, Newt was just as open with Thomas. Newt told him about his dreams of being a track star that were shattered after his left leg was permanently damaged in an old accident, though Newt wouldn’t talk about how it happened. He told Thomas that instead he decided to become a doctor, to spend his life helping other people who suffered like he had. He spoke of his classes, about entering into the final semester of his pre-Med degree and how excited and scared he was to go to medical school. Thomas couldn’t help but be impressed with the boy who sat beside him.

Time got away from them, a full hour slipping by in a matter of minutes. They reminisced about high school: about the trouble that Minho got into (“Do you remember the time he replaced the flag with dirty jockstraps that he stole from the locker room?); their teachers (“Mr. Janson was the devil. Do you remember his stupid rat face?”); the parties they’d attended (“I used to love Harriet’s parties. Her house was huge!”); and how many times they were in the same place but never managed to meet each other.

“I guess we just weren’t meant to meet back then” Newt sighed.

 _Maybe_ , Thomas thought to himself. But he was really glad that they had met now.

“So you said this is your first time clubbing” Newt smiled over at him. “Is it everything that you hoped it would be?”

Thomas held up his empty cup. “The coconut was a surprise.”

Newt nodded. “You mean, you didn’t think you’d be drinking out of a coconut beneath a ceiling of palm leaves? Clearly you are inexperienced in the ways of the world. At least you got laid” Newt smirked, eyeing the flowers that were still around Thomas’ neck. “It wouldn’t be good for you to be too innocent.”

Thomas frowned down at them. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I don’t really know how that happened. I thought this place was supposed to be Cuban, not Hawaiian.”

“They’re just trying to make things more fun” Newt laughed.

“If they wanted to appropriate a culture, they should probably get their facts straight” Thomas mumbled.

Newt cocked his head to the side and laughed, a light, musical sound. “You’re kind of an annoying twat, you know that?” he said.

Thomas blinked, shocked at Newt’s nerve. But he found that he didn’t mind so much. It was kind of hard to be mad at Newt when he had such a good-natured smile.

“You know” Thomas admitted. “You’re not the first one to say something like that to me today. And yes, I suppose I am. Sorry. I swear I’m not usually like this. It’s been a rough few weeks.”

“What are you normally like?” Newt asked, his face growing more serious.

“Less annoying I hope” Thomas sighed. “To be honest, I don’t really know what I’m like anymore.”

“It sounds like you are carrying around a lot of baggage there Tommy.”

“No…” Thomas started but he knew that Newt would probably see through whatever lie he tried to tell. He wasn’t a very good liar. “Okay, yes. It’s not really baggage, per se. I guess I’m carrying around a cheating ex-girlfriend.”

“Ah, one of those” Newt nodded sombrely. “Sounds heavy.”

“A bit.”

“It’s probably time for you to cut some of that dead weight loose” Newt said.

“How?” Thomas asked.

“Well, you made the first step” Newt spoke encouragingly. “You left the house. Went outside. You should be having fun but, so far, it doesn’t really seem like you have been. So we’re just going to have to change that.”

“What do you suggest?”

Newt flashed him a mischievous grin that rivalled Minho. “You are going to dance with me.” He gestured towards the dance floor.

“I…” Thomas stammered, heat rushing to his cheeks. “But…I’m not gay…”

Newt raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t say that you were gay. I said you were going to dance with me. There is quite a big difference between the two statements.”

“Oh…yeah…” Thomas said, wishing desperately that the earth would open below him and he would disappear into sweet oblivion. “Right…I just…I didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

“Okay, procreator. You are not gay. Congratulations. Now that you got that out of your system, come and dance with me.”

“But I don’t know how” Thomas replied weakly.

“Look at those fools out there” Newt pointed to the crowd. “No one knows how. But you need to get your mind off of your troubles and I intend to make that happen. So come on.” He grabbed Thomas’ hand and led him onto the dance floor, pushing through the wall of drunken dancers.

They ended up in a spot right in the middle of the club, completely surrounded by people. Groups of twos and threes were jumping, swaying and gyrating to the upbeat music and Thomas watched them nervously, trying to figure out how they moved like that. Maybe he could fake it, make it look like he actually knew what he was doing. Unfortunately, his lack of rhythm and poor coordination were definitely going to work against him.

“Stop thinking so much” Newt yelled, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the thundering baseline. “These people are drunk. They won’t be paying any attention to you.”

 _But you will be_ , Thomas thought bitterly. And somehow that seemed worse.

Unlike Thomas, Newt didn’t have to pretend to know what he was doing. He looked like he belonged out here. The music seemed to spread though his body, the tempo travelling fluidly through his arms, his hips and his chest. Thomas couldn’t help staring at him as he gracefully swayed this way and that with sweat glistening on his forehead.

With a deep breath Thomas made an attempt to mimic Newt, to move his own hips in a way that was so organically in tune with the melody. But he knew immediately that he wasn’t doing a very good job. His body felt stiff and mechanical and he was definitely missing the beat. More than once he bumped into one of the people dancing around him and he had to apologize.

But Newt didn’t seem to notice. In fact, his face split into a wide grin at the sight of Thomas’s effort. “There you go Tommy” he beamed at him. “Just relax and have fun.”

 _Fun_ , Thomas thought. If someone had asked him earlier in the evening whether that was a possibility, he would have laughed at the prospect. Now though, he had to admit that he might actually be enjoying himself. Dancing wasn’t so bad, especially with such good company.

The two danced, laughing and taking turns to attempt more daring steps. Newt performed some kind of ballet move that involved bended knees and spinning (“It’s a pas de bouree you uncultured swine!” Newt yelled indignantly. “How dare you call it a pinwheel!”) and Thomas executed a perfect sprinkler.

But despite their laughter, something didn’t feel right. Though the crowd pressed against them on all sides, Newt made sure to keep a safe distance away. This space weighed heavily on Thomas. Newt was clearly trying to respect Thomas’ wishes after the regrettable “no homo” remark and Thomas felt ashamed. Newt never gave any indication that he had ulterior motives for hanging out with him. Hell, Thomas didn’t even know if Newt was gay. And yet his first instinct was to push him away.

Typical Thomas.

Thomas wanted desperately to apologize but Newt would never hear him from this distance.

Unless…

Thomas knew it was risky but he had to give it a try. He couldn’t let there be any awkwardness between him and Newt. As the song that was blearing on the speakers rose to a crescendo, Thomas threw himself into a dramatic ballerina twirl. Right on cue, Thomas’s right foot became inescapably tangled in his left and he found himself tumbling forward. And also on cue was Newt, his arms shooting out and preventing Thomas from hitting the ground for the second time that evening.

As soon as Thomas was able to regain his balance, Newt tried to pull away from him. But Thomas grabbed him by the wrists, keeping him close.

“Newt” Thomas said, loud enough to be heard over the crowd but not so loud as to be overheard by those around them. “I’m sorry for what I said before. It wasn’t cool.”

“You’ll have to be more specific” Newt smirked. “A lot of what you said before wasn’t cool. You’re kind of a strange one.”

Thomas glowered at him. “You know that I am talking about.”

Newt laughed. “Look Tommy, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m aware that not everyone is gay like I am. You asserted your boundaries and that’s good. But I want you to know that I would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable.”

“Except force me to dance” Thomas replied drily.

“Shut up, you love it.”

“It’s kind of okay, I guess” Thomas chuckled. “And of course you wouldn’t do anything to make me uncomfortable. I have no right to assume that you would. I actually trust you—which is weird for me—so I don’t want to fuck it up. I want you to know that I am not uncomfortable. You being gay and—” he looked down at the place where his fingers circled Newt’s wrists. “—me dancing with you…I’m not uncomfortable at all.”

“Good” Newt said smiling. “Because I have been wanting to this all night.”

He pulled Thomas’ left hand up into his own and snaked his other hand behind Thomas’ back. Without warning, he threw Thomas backwards into a theatrical dip, his arms holding tightly to prevent Thomas from falling again. Thomas laughed, letting his head fall back towards the floor.

Now he was definitely having fun.

“Thomas?” a voice called from somewhere behind them.

Thomas scrambled back up and met the brown-eyed gaze of his friend Brenda as she emerged from the curtain of sweaty bodies. Her face was blank and her mouth was slightly open in shock. Though Thomas realized how odd this must look to her, he knew that look couldn’t be because he was dancing with Newt. She had caught him in much more awkward situations before without even batting an eye. Nevertheless, Thomas was acutely aware that Newt had pulled away again. He was now standing a foot to Thomas’ left, staring at Brenda with polite curiosity.

“What are you doing here?” Thomas asked.

“I’m here with...” Brenda started, looking uncomfortable. “Wait. What are _you_ doing here? I thought you didn’t want to leave your room.”

“Minho made me come out” Thomas said, eying her suspiciously.

“Damn it Minho” Brenda huffed.

“I don’t understand…” Thomas started.

But then suddenly, he did.

Though Brenda was Thomas’ friend and had been for many years, she was Teresa’s friend first. She and Teresa had grown up together. In fact, Brenda was the reason that Thomas and Teresa started dating in the first place. When she sat next to Thomas in their grade nine biology class, she was the one who pulled him into their group. For as long as he knew them, the two girls were always together. So if Brenda was out at a club…

Thomas felt his stomach sink, weighed down as if it were made of lead. Slowly he turned to scan the crowd, looking for the familiar tendrils of auburn hair.

And there she was.

She stood a few meters to the right of them, pressed firmly against another guy. Even from this distance Thomas was able to recognize Aris’ skinny arms circling her waist, their bodies swaying methodically to the music.

Thomas felt his chest ignite into a fiery rage.

“Are you fucking kidding me??” he yelled.

“I’m so sorry Thomas” Brenda cried, her face crumpling under his glare. “I told her not to go out with him but she wouldn’t listen to me. I think she wanted to get back at you for ignoring her calls. But there is absolutely no way we thought you were going to be here tonight. I would have never come out if we did.”

“She goes out with him to get back at me” Thomas snapped, his hands balled into fists. “when she is the one who cheated in the first place. And I am here to witness it. Again. That’s just fucking great!”

Thomas felt a light pressure on his shoulder. He turned to see Newt come up behind him, his hand against Thomas’ t-shirt as if trying to hold him back. “Calm down Tommy” he whispered into his ear, the sound sending goose bumps running down Thomas’ arms.

“I take it your cheating ex-girlfriend is here?” Newt asked, this time making his voice loud enough for Brenda to hear. Her eyes were wide and full of worry.

Thomas nodded again.

“Where?”

Thomas jerked his head to their right. “The girl in the blue dress and the guy who looks like a weasel.”

It didn’t take long for Newt’s eyes to lock on to them and his brow furrowed in disgust. “He is an insult to weasels.”

Thomas snorted despite himself.

“Well” Newt said calmly, not taking his hand off of Thomas’ shoulder. “This is a very unfortunate turn of events. But it is not—sorry, I didn’t catch your name”

"Brenda” she said weakly.

“Brenda” he flashed her a small smile before turning his attention back to Thomas. “It is not Brenda’s fault that your little girlfriend is the worst. She just happens to be the one who had to deliver the news.”

Thomas sighed. He knew Newt was right. As satisfying as it might feel to take his anger our on someone, getting mad at Brenda wouldn’t change the situation. She didn’t do anything wrong.

“I’m not mad at you Bren. I’m just...”

“I know Thomas” Brenda said, grabbing his hand. “I am so sorry for what she did. I’m sorry for what she is doing. You don’t deserve any of this.”

He nodded. “I know. I think I’m just going to go home.”

“No way” Newt said.

Thomas stared at him. “Why not? I don’t want to watch the two of them falling over each other all night. I want to go back home. I shouldn’t have left my bed.”

“You were having fun for a little while there Tommy” Newt said. “The night is not a complete waste. Besides, there’s a better way to deal with this than to run away from it.”

“How?”

An impish grin spread across Newt’s face. “Make her jealous.”

Thomas’ eyes narrowed. “How?” he asked again.

“Well,” Newt said, stepping a little closer to him. “You can ignore her and actually have a good time. I know that seems impossible now but you were enjoying yourself before. I think if she saw you doing well without her, it might be enough to rattle her.”

“Or…” he stepped in again. “if you really want to piss her off…” There was barely an inch between the two boys now. Thomas could see streaks of honey in Newt’s dark brown eyes and smell the spicy scent of his cologne. “You could dance with me. _Really_ dance with me. Show her that you’ve moved on.”

“But…”

“I know Thomas” Newt said exasperated. “You are not gay. But this isn’t about being gay or straight. This is about justice. About righting a wrong. This is about showing her how stupid she was for letting you go. Make her see that you can be happy with someone else. Even if it is just for show.”

Thomas thought about it for a moment. Newt spoke so reasonably that Thomas’ discomfort seemed ridiculous. He did want Teresa to hurt in the same way she hurt him. He wanted her regret the day she decided to cheat and to beg him to take her back.

He wouldn’t of course. They were too far past that now.

But why shouldn’t he and Newt make her jealous? Newt wanted to help and Thomas was comfortable enough with him. He trusted him. Why should it be such a big deal?

Plus, Thomas couldn’t deny that dancing with someone as good-looking as Newt would definitely upset Teresa. Newt was the kind of guy that Teresa was always admiring. Chiseled jawline, intelligent eyes, tall and slender but sturdily built. Hell, Thomas even thought the guy was attractive.

 _Really_ attractive.

“Yeah.” Thomas nodded, making up his mind. “Let’s do it.”

Newt nodded at Thomas, that same playful grin pulling at the sides of his face. Then he turned his attention back to Brenda.

“Whose side are you on?” Newt asked.

Brenda blinked, taken aback. “No one’s side.”

“Well, so far it really looks like you’ve only been showing your support for…Teresa, wasn’t it? And considering what she did to my friend Tommy here, that is a very questionable position to take.”

Brenda opened her mouth to argue but Newt silenced her with a wave of his hand. “I’m just saying that Thomas needs your support too. In fact, you can help him right now.”

Brenda scowled at him. “How?” she asked.

“Don’t tell her that you ran into us” Newt said, speaking with that same tone of authority that he used with Gally. “You don’t know anything about us being here. Go and dance with them and, in five minutes or so, pretend to spot us. And never speak of this conversation again.”

Brenda was quiet, her eyes darting back and forth between Thomas and Newt. Thomas was fairly certain she wouldn’t do it. Why should she? Teresa was her friend first and her _best_ friend. Though Thomas and Brenda did have their own friendship, it paled in comparison. This is the kind of thing that finished friendships. They would fade into no more than acquaintances. He would forever be known as Brenda’s best friend’s ex-boyfriend. Or maybe even the loser who thought that he and Teresa would be together forever. Maybe they would joke about him. It was hard to tell. But he was almost certain that whatever he and Brenda had before was gone forever.

“Fine” Brenda said finally, surprising him. “I’ll do it. I think this is really petty but she needs to know that she did wrong by you. You’re a good guy Thomas. You didn’t deserve what she did and I will never forgive her for it. So, if this gives you a little bit of closure, I’ll help.”

A weak smile crossed Thomas’ face. Maybe their friendship wasn’t as over as he thought.

“Thanks Bren.”

Brenda nodded. “You have five minutes before she sees you. You two better make it look convincing. I want to wipe that stupid smirk off of Aris’ face.” And with that she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

 _Five minutes_.

Five minutes until Teresa would see Thomas and Newt. Five minutes for Thomas to figure out how the hell he was going to make her jealous. He couldn’t dance at the best of times, especially not with a partner. And now he only had five minutes to make it look like he’d moved on.

This was never going to work.

Thomas turned to face Newt, blinking nervously. He had absolutely no idea how two dudes danced together. He didn’t even know how two _people_ danced together. He could feel the panic rising in his throat, the heat rushing to his face, and his heart throwing itself against the inside of his chest.

Newt laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get you through this.”

As if trying to help their cause, the music changed to a slow, sensual Spanish ballad. The crowd around them coupled off, a scattered mess of tangled limbs and swinging hips. Thomas watched them dance, taken in by their graceful movements and their passion.

How could anyone move like that?

Thomas felt Newt step towards him and any distance that was between them before disappeared. Thomas was distinctly aware of Newt, the sharp angles of his bones, the muscles of his chest, the shallow breath flowing in and out of him. But Thomas found that didn’t want to push Newt away.

In fact, he was starting to think that might actually want to pull him in closer, if that was possible.

As if in response to this fleeting desire, Newt grabbed at Thomas’ waist, placing his hands securely on each hipbone and holding him tightly.

“This kind of dancing is not about skill” Newt said, his warm breath tickling at Thomas’ chin. The two boys were roughly the same height so Thomas had nowhere to look but back into Newt’s eyes. “It is about connection. You have to connect with your partner in order to make it work.”

“Connection?” Thomas repeated, distinctly aware that Newt’s body was pressed firmly against his own. Connection didn’t seem too hard.

“Like this.”

Newt started moving his hips, slowly swaying to the rise and fall of the music. Using his hands, he began to slowly rock Thomas’ waist from side to side, directing it to match his own. Thomas could hear his heart beating his ears and he struggled to control his breathing. He didn’t want Newt to know how nervous he was.

Especially because he was starting to realize that it wasn’t the dancing that scared him.

It took Thomas a little while to get the hang of it. Though swinging his hips back and forth didn’t seem too challenging, he found that dancing with another person was. Though the steps were simple, Thomas could feel that he and Newt had very different ways of moving. Thomas was stiff and lumbering, his body seeming to act of its own accord without his mind or the music communicating with it. Newt on the other hand was graceful and lithe, each movement precise and perfectly timed. It seemed almost impossible that they would ever be able to make it work.

But to Thomas’ surprise, the longer they danced, the easier it was becoming. The two were eventually able to move together, to find a rhythm that they could both match easily. Thomas learned to anticipate the slight limp whenever Newt stepped to his left and Newt learned to anticipate Thomas’ random bouts of clumsiness. As time went on, the two almost seemed to become one being. Thomas found that he didn’t even have to think that much about what he was doing anymore. He wasn’t afraid of making a fool of himself. How could he be when all he could see was Newt? Newt wasn’t judging him so why should he care what anyone else thought?

As Thomas’ confidence grew Newt no longer had to direct him. Instead Newt took his arms off of Thomas’ hips and circled them around his shoulders. In response, Thomas wrapped his own around Newt’s back and clung to him tightly. He could feel the sweat through Newt’s shirt as he clasped tightly to the sheer fabric. There were only a few inches separating their faces now and Thomas found that he couldn’t look away from Newt. He was staring into his dark brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to go on and on forever.

Newt pulled Thomas closer, leaning down so that his chin was resting on Thomas’ shoulder. “I think we might be a little too convincing” Newt breathed into Thomas’ neck, causing an explosion of goose bumps.

“Why?” Thomas asked breathlessly.

“Because your little girlfriend looks pissed and she is on her way over here right now.”

“What??” Thomas cried.

Thomas tried to turn and look but Newt caught him by the chin. “Don’t do that” he said. “You’ll give away the whole thing.”

“What do I do Newt?” Thomas asked desperately.

 “I don’t know what to tell you mate” Newt sighed. “You might just have to talk to her.”

Thomas felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn’t talk to Teresa. She would be able to see through any lie he tried to tell her about Newt. And worst of all, she might actually be able to make him forgive her. This was possibly the worst thing that Thomas could imagine. Though he couldn’t remember ever feeling as betrayed by someone in his life, Teresa had this inexplicable way of making him forgive all of her faults. He had spent so much time avoiding her calls and texts not because he was angry—though that definitely helped—but because he didn’t to give her the chance to change his mind. He didn’t want to talk to her. He _couldn’t_ talk to her. But he had no possible means of escape.

Unless…

Thomas looked back to Newt who was fixing him with a concerned stare. He was suddenly aware that Newt’s hand was still on the side of his face and their bodies were still pressed firmly up against each other. Teresa would easily be able to break them apart if they were just dancing. But what if they were doing more than that?

Without thinking, Thomas lurched forward and took Newt by the mouth, slamming their lips together in one frantic movement. He wrapped his arms tightly around Newt’s shoulders and pulled him as close as he could, as if he were trying to crawl into Newt’s very skin and hide there.

Thomas felt Newt stiffen against his sudden outburst. He wondered if he had gone too far, if kissing Newt would be the end to everything that they had built that night. But he didn’t need to worry. Thomas felt a slight chuckle beneath his lips and suddenly Newt opened himself up, his arms wrapping around Thomas’ sides and holding tightly to his lower back. Encouraged by Newt’s enthusiasm, Thomas became bolder. He deepened the kiss, exploring Newt’s mouth with his own. He could feel Newt doing the same, their mouths dancing around each other like their bodies had before. To Thomas’ surprise, kissing Newt wasn’t weird or awkward. In fact, it felt good.

 _Really_ good.

He couldn’t say how long they stayed like that. Had it been a minute? Five? Ten? There was no way to tell. Kissing Newt had a kind of timeless effect and everything seemed to melt away from them. Thomas could feel a spark of exhilaration igniting in his chest, a heat that was rapidly spreading throughout his entire body.

But much too soon, Thomas felt Newt pulling away, the sudden space between them hitting him like a blast of icy wind.

“Good thinking Tommy” Newt said breathlessly, looking over Thomas’ shoulder. “You should have seen her face. She was so angry and she stormed off. She even slammed into that twat—Aris was it?—on her way out. He spilled his drink all over himself! It was a beautiful moment.”

Thomas blinked, trying to picture the scene in his mind. He could almost see Teresa knocking into Aris, the drink staining his overpriced t-shirt. It was a better ending than he could have hoped for.

Thomas waited for the thrill of victory to hit him, to finally feel like he got the upper hand. But the feeling never came. To his surprise, Thomas found that he didn’t actually care about how Teresa was feeling. Instead, all he could find himself thinking about was how Newt’s lips had felt against his.

And how desperately he wanted to feel them again.

“I don’t care about her” Thomas heard himself saying, more to himself than to Newt.

“Good for you Tommy” Newt smiled, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

“No Newt” Thomas said, staring into his chocolate eyes with determination. “I mean, I _really_ don’t care about her.”

And in an instant, Thomas felt himself close the distance between him and Newt, his lips pressing firmly against Newt’s as though the two were drawn together by a powerful magnetic pull.

Thomas knew in the back of his mind that he probably shouldn’t have done it. He didn’t think it through. He never thought things through. But he had to kiss Newt. There was something deep within him, something that he didn’t quite understand, that made it impossible for him to keep away.

But he knew that this kiss was different from the first.

It had only been for show before, a simple kiss with no implications. But this one was real. It meant something. Something that Thomas was not smart enough to figure out yet.

Newt stayed frozen for what felt like an eternity to Thomas. It was long enough to make his confidence falter, to make him wonder what he had been thinking kissing Newt in the first place. Newt didn’t ask him to do that. Newt might not have even wanted to kiss him at all.

But just as Thomas was about to pull away, a hungry growl escaped from Newt’s mouth and he pushed himself forward into Thomas. He moved with such force that it made Thomas stagger backwards. Newt’s arms were once again around his waist and they held him steady. The two boys grabbed desperately for the other, unable to be close enough. The warmth that Thomas had felt before ignited into a wildfire that was once again spreading rapidly through his body.

He vowed to never push Newt away from him again.

Just as before, Thomas lost all sense of where he was. He could no longer hear the booming music or feel the sweaty bodies that surrounded them. He knew only Newt and he was becoming quite an expert on him. Thomas knew the way the tang from Newt’s drink mingled with the toothpaste on his tongue. He knew the way his soft golden hair felt as Thomas ran his fingers through it. He knew the way Newt giggled shamelessly when Thomas breathed in his ear and how Newt clung tightly to Thomas’ collar to keep him close.

But he wanted to know more.

“Wait” Newt said, his breath coming out staggered and shallow. “I thought you weren’t gay.”

Thomas’ own breath was heavy, his lungs pulling in air as if he had just emerged from water. “I…I might be a little more gay than I had originally thought”.

Newt laughed and pulled him in again.

And for the moment, this was enough. Thomas didn’t care what other people would think about what he was doing and he didn’t care what it meant. All that he cared about was his place between Newt’s arms, the taste of Newt’s lips on his tongue and the passion in the pit of his stomach. There would be time to figure out all of that stuff later. But for now, he was just so incredibly happy that he was here, that he was forced to leave his room and come to this stupid little club.

But he would never tell Minho that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. That's the fic. I might write a sequel eventually but for now I am going to step away. Maybe I will finally be able to get "Havana" out of my head. But probably not. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> If it is not apparent from the title, the original idea for this fic came from the song "Havana" by Camila Cabello. I was listening to it one day and I couldn't get the idea of Thomas meeting Newt for the first time in a "tropical" themed club out of my head. So I decided to try writing about it to see where it would lead. This is the result.
> 
> This is the first fic that I ever posted here (and the first fic that I've written in several years) so I am kind of nervous about this whole thing. But I'm just letting it go and the universe can do with it what it will lol


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